


Men Only Want One Thing

by daintylemonsquare



Category: Dalton Academy Series
Genre: Begging, Canon Trans Character, F/M, Fluffy Smut, Praise, Pre-Op Sex, Sperril - Freeform, Unprotected Feelings, trying to be quiet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:28:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24444337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daintylemonsquare/pseuds/daintylemonsquare
Summary: Merril Portman decides the time to be bold is sooner rather than later.
Relationships: Merril Portman/Spencer Willis
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	Men Only Want One Thing

Merril was allowed to touch Spencer anywhere she pleased but Spencer wasn’t allowed to touch Merril. Not because of any hesitation on Spencer’s part. Spencer was a gentleman. He never went anywhere Merril didn’t want to go to. He never tried to lead Merril there or even suggested it. Where Merril told him to stop, he stopped. Merril appreciated that. There was nothing wrong with Spencer. 

There was something wrong with her, despite Spencer’s protestations. 

Spencer wouldn’t reject her. He knew. Many people knew but he knew and he didn’t care. Logically, having sex with him wouldn’t change anything. He wouldn’t run away. He wouldn’t balk at the sight of the body she had. Still, the thought of being naked in front of her boyfriend the way she was now had anxiety crawling over every nerve. It pinched her everywhere. And where it pinched it twisted. The harder it twisted, the more she wanted to run away screaming, begging for some silence. Her body fit even less than it already did. 

Nevertheless, Spencer held her in a way that smoothed the wrinkles in her chest. The way he looked at her, the way he touched her, the way he kissed her gave her no indication that he would reject her. But rejection was all she knew. Anything beyond that horizon was a terrifying unknown she was afraid to cross lest she fall into a deeper pit. One that she may be buried in. 

“I’m sorry,” Merril whispered, holding her arms across her chest, hoping to avoid spilling over into the carpet. 

“It’s okay. Baby, it’s okay.” Spencer reached for her. She didn’t move. He put a hand by her thigh. His warmth radiated from it. She couldn’t look at him. “You’re not ready. It’s okay. You don’t have to push yourself.” 

“When then? When will I ever be ready?” Merril grunted. She stood, raking her fingers through her hair. “When my body is ‘ready’? When it’s ‘perfect’? That’s so...Many people like me don’t have this problem. Do you know that? They’re proud of their bodies.”

“Many people aren’t you,” Spencer said. “Don’t compare yourself to what other people like you can and can’t do.” 

Merril sighed. She supposed he was right. There were trans people out there who wouldn’t express themselves the way Merril was right now. There were those out there who would push down their identity until it was somewhere they couldn’t wade through without spending weeks and months begging for a reprieve. Still, she wished she was stronger, better in a way. Not just for Spencer’s sake, but her own sake. She didn’t enjoy the ugly curl her stomach felt whenever Spencer’s hands went lower or higher than they were supposed to. She hated feeling this way. She wished she could find a switch and turn that part of her brain that abhorred being touched and feared rejection that she would rather hide then disappear than face it head on. 

Spencer’s hands fluttered over her shoulders. His warmth was comforting against her back. She leaned against it. He kissed the top of her head. His fingers ran down her arms, over her elbows, and found the spaces between hers, holding tight. “It’s okay. You’re okay. And I love you. That’s what’s important. Don’t stress about the physical stuff so much.” 

Easier said than done but the simplest advice was usually correct. Merril nodded, her posture easing. She turned around, her hands moving up Spencer’s chest. She played with a loose piece of thread, then said, “Has anyone told you that you’re the best boyfriend ever?” 

Spencer waggled his head. “Perhaps?” 

Merril kissed him once and quickly. He sighed into it, a grin still plastered on his face. “I love you so much.” 

“Not more than me,” he murmured. 

“I’ll let you think that,” she replied. 

* * *

Spencer Willis wasn’t Derek Seigerson. He wasn’t going to have sex with Merril and then leave her in the dust. He wasn’t going to give up if Merril wasn’t putting out. He made it clear that he would wait for her until she was ready and that he wasn’t in any rush. Logically, Merril knew that. A part of Merril, the size of which depended on how shitty her dysphoria decided to make her feel that day, still worried that he was going to disappear if she didn’t do anything soon. That same part worried that Spencer would have an epiphany in the middle of it all that she wasn’t his type of woman. It wasn’t fair to Spencer. It wasn’t fair to her too. She did her best to shoo away such thoughts but they stuck around like a cold that just wouldn’t let up. 

Merril decided it was time. She couldn’t keep putting it off and fretting about it and hiding from it. The longer she did, the more difficult it would be to confront. She had to bite the bullet. She had to take up arms and fight this ugly thing inside of her before it could consume more of her. 

She took her time. There was still no rush. She did her research in between homework assignments. She practiced when she had time alone. Anal sex wasn’t a one and done feat. There were extra steps to take so they wouldn’t be interrupted during their most vulnerable. Merril wasn’t going to tolerate any accidents. She didn’t want to grow another complex surrounding sex. 

The last step was to buy a jockstrap. A nice one from a website she’d much rather not have anyone in her family know she visited. It was easy enough to bypass. Han Westwood had a whole business buying things for people whose parents monitored their spending. She was glad she didn’t have to see Han face to face, and he was decent enough to repackage the purchase when the usual care packages and other mail were delivered to the houses. 

It wasn’t anything too flashy. The blue was vibrant and the black elastic was comfortable around her thighs and bottom. She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. She didn’t like what she saw. She wished her reflection would change after she closed her eyes long enough. She wished she wouldn’t curl into herself when faced with her current reality. Before self-doubt could drum its way into her core and push the determination out of her with lies about what was going to happen next, Merril turned away. She put on a nice skirt that hugged her hips. She buttoned up her shirt over her plain gray bralette that laid flat against her chest (more of a way to help feel a certain way than anything else) and tucked a part of it into the skirt. Following a deep breath, she faced her reflection again. 

It was close enough. “You’re beautiful,” she whispered to her reflection. “You’re beautiful. You can do this.” Then she put on lipgloss. 

She sat at the corner of her bed, knee-length socks in hand, high-heeled boots on the floor. She thought without thinking. It was all sensations ebbing and flowing. Her chest tightened then loosened. Her bottom clenched and unclenched, somewhat new to the more open feeling. She traced the fabric of her socks and curled her feet into her carpet. She was going to do this. She was the safest she’d ever been but everything inside of her said that she was standing at the edge of a cliff while the world behind her yelled to take a step back, she wasn’t brave enough, at the same time yelling that she was so brave, that she was going to survive the plunge. All that cracked into pieces when Spencer knocked on the door. 

“Hey, are you ready?” They had a date that night. It wasn’t too often but they liked to go out regularly. Merril appreciated it and Spencer’s stringent scheduling of it. She felt almost normal when they went out like this. 

Suddenly, she felt stupid, wanting to put on a show and easing into it when Spencer was willing to have sex with her without much preamble. However, she wasn’t really one for spontaneity. She enjoyed it, but she wasn’t too confident in executing it. Eroticism was something she had to work herself up to, especially with Spencer, especially with how her body was right now. 

“Hey, um, yeah. I’m almost done,” she said, doing her best not to let too much stutter to come in. 

“You okay?” Of course Spencer noticed. 

“No. Yeah. I’m okay, yeah. Close the door. I’ll be ready in a bit.” Merril put a smile that was half-true, hoping that it would help her confidence. Spencer returning it sure gave it a boost. 

“Handsome as always,” she added. It was nothing like, say, Reed Van Kamp would wear, but for Spencer, it was nice. A collared shirt, clean jeans that fit his thighs, and his clean sneakers. His hair was down and combed. He smelled heavenly, clean and crisp. She could bury herself in his smell any day and lay within it for hours on end. Maybe tonight could be that night. 

“And you’re more gorgeous than the day before,” he replied with a kiss on her head before he sat down beside her. 

If Merril weren’t already pink from anticipation, she’d blush. She slipped on her socks, extending her leg in front of her, purposeful in the way she pulled it up. Then the next. Her skirt rode up, exposing more of her thigh than she dared before. She didn’t particularly like short skirts. They were a danger for the likes of her. She wouldn’t be able to tell who was peaking and who was going to have an opinion about it. But tonight was not for inhibitions. She stood, albeit mechanically, and faced her mirror. 

“Is this okay?” She asked, after a swallow breath, feeling Spencer’s eyes on her. She bent low to pull at the hem of one of the socks. Not that she needed to. It fit just right. That was for Spencer. When Spencer didn’t respond, she tried not to seem too pleased about it. “Spencer? Is this okay? It isn’t too short, is it?” 

“Oh. The skirt.” He cleared his throat. “Yeah. If you’re comfortable with it, that’s fine.” 

“Are you?” Merril turned. She fiddled with a pendant Spencer gave her a week or so ago. 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” A light blush was creeping up his neck. “I’m always happy to show off how hot my girlfriend is,” he said, this time without stammering or looking at her eyes too intently. 

“You think I’m hot?” Merril asked with her most saccharine voice. She stood in front of him, sliding one hand up her shoulder. 

Spencer chuckled, placing his hands on her hips. “Absolutely. Hotter than the surface of Venus, baby.” 

“You’re a dork,” Merril replied. She still loved it, cheesy as it was.

“A dork you’re dating,” he retorted. 

“You’re so lucky you’re pretty.” 

“I’m lucky that you decided to like a dork like me back.” 

There was a brief moment when Merril let herself feel how much she loved Spencer from the top of her head to the nails on her toes. It was in the air she exhaled and in the beats of her heart. And with that love came trust. She was so fortunate to have him be her first. 

Merril took a deep breath. Another hand on Spencer’s other shoulder. The warmth of his palms permeated the fabric of her skirt. She licked her lips and straddled him slowly, cool air caressing the back of her thighs when her skirt rose with the new position. Spencer’s jaw dropped. Before he could stutter anything out, Merril put her lips on his. Her eyes fluttered close. One of Spencer’s hands cradled her face as she deepened the kiss. Her arms slid around his shoulders, hands reveling in the way his muscles bunched together and supported their position. She was careful to keep her crotch away from him. She could already feel herself getting halfway hard, even before she opened their mouths and eased her tongue towards his. His free arm wound around her waist, pulling her close. She remained conscious of where her hips went. 

She reached down between them, her arm serving as a barrier, though it wasn’t the main purpose. She touched his pants’ button. He chuckled. “Really? Now?” He murmured. Merril laced her fingers through his neat hair and they kissed until Merril had him unzipped. A tiny rush rippled up her arm when she felt him halfway hard too. 

“You could’ve told me. I wore white underwear today. There’re still pink stains on the other one,” he teased, peppering his syllables with kisses. 

Merril giggled. “What if...I told you...I’m not giving you a blowjob today?” 

Concern dawned on his dopey expression. Merril was almost sad to see it go. “Are you sure?”

“Surer than I’ll ever be. Please don’t ask me any more because I’m literally on the cusp of jumping off of you every second I let myself think about it,” she said, words stumbling into one another. 

Spencer nodded. “As long as you’re okay. All I want is for you to be okay and comfortable and ready. I hope I didn’t do anything to pressure you.” His words were also pushing at each other as they came out. Merril realized, once again, that Spencer was the perfect man. 

Merril silenced him with a kiss. Spencer’s concern melted into the small space between their lips and he held her the way he’d always held her: like she was a cloud he managed to catch. 

She worked on his cock in short, even strokes. His full girth filled her hand within the minute and she thought of all those times she had it in her mouth, shivering the moment she did. Spencer’s breath hastened with her strokes and squeezes. He was eager with his tongue, meeting and mirroring her own gusto. It was the only way he could muffle his pleasure. Not that he was being loud at the moment, but anything to keep people from knocking. Her shirt was open. His collar was popped. Merril leaned back, he followed. With her free hand, she led one of his hands from her back down past the bunched up hem of her skirt. She switched hands and did the same to the other. Spencer hesitated, as if to check her response. She squeezed him, he dug his fingers into the supple flesh of her ass and squeezed back. She sighed into the kiss. He smiled. She smiled. The kiss resumed. 

Merril let go of him and leaned to her pillow. Underneath were two packs of condoms and a bottle of lube. Spencer blew a whistle. “This is really happening huh?” He ran the back of two fingers along the side of Merril’s cheekbone. 

“Yeah,” she whispered. Doubt curled around the edges of her pleasure. 

“Hey.” Spencer kissed the side of her neck, then again near her jaw. That doubt withered in his heat, shaken away when she shivered. “We can stop whenever you want, okay? I go where you go, do what you want to do only. Remember?”

Merril nodded. “Give me your hand.” He gave her his right. She put her mouth a couple of fingers, giving it a nice suck, running her tongue between the index and the middle finger. Spencer’s throat bobbed. The hand that remained around her ass tightened. She hummed. Then she poured a good amount of lube on it and rubbed it around his fingers. There was a mild fruity smell. She didn’t like it, but she didn’t hate it either. She let go. They shared a look. She didn’t have to tell him twice. 

She’d already prepared herself for this earlier but she figured she’d go through some of the motions with Spencer, especially since she was keeping most of her clothes on and her front as far away as she could manage. When Spencer’s fingers honed in on her entrance, she gripped his shirt. She dropped her head into his shoulder. And when Spencer slipped the first finger in, easier than if she hadn’t prepared, she pressed a soft moan into his neck. He stroked the side of her thigh with his other hand. 

“Does that feel good? Does it hurt?” He asked into her hair. 

“It’s good,” she said, and repeated herself. She twitched against the fabric of her jockstrap.

He could only manage being halfway in with such a limiting position. Merril didn’t mind. It was a start and they could work their way up. He put in another finger, sliding them both back and forth inside of her. She was starting to tremble and her breaths were starting to become more audible. She mouthed along Spencer’s neck, careful not to suckle. It was too high from the collar. They tried to keep their hickeys hidden. There were still plenty along his thighs the last time they did something close to this. 

Merril’s breath hitched when Spencer pressed into a sensitive area two joints deep. He did it again. Merril clenched around him and she bit down both her lips. He chuckled. “Do you like that?” She nodded. He did it again. She cracked a little but caught the moan before it could go too far. She hit him on the shoulder. He laughed. She smiled nonetheless and kissed his jaw, then his cheek, then his lips. Pleasure sparked up her back and across her shoulders. Her fingers tingled. And this was just the beginning. 

Merril pushed him back and he propped himself up by the elbows. She pushed the front of her skirt lower, even though it was covering her adequately. A shuddering breath passed her when she brushed against her erect from through the fabric. She maneuvered herself backward, her knees almost at the edge of her bed, relying on Spencer’s thighs for support. She unwrapped the condom and put it on his hefty shaft. He threw his head back when she gave him a couple of strokes. She put more lube on him, using both hands to cover it all up. She loved feeling him. Her heart slammed into her ribs, excited to have him inside of her after so long wondering and wishing and yearning for it. 

“Are you sure we don’t need to do more? I don’t want to hurt you,” he stuttered. 

“Don’t worry. I did a lot more prep when you weren’t here,” she said. “And, I mean, I’ve taken you before.” Spencer looked away, suddenly bashful. His cock twitched. “And I’ll take you again, like a champ.” He snorted. She laughed. They started laughing together that Merril had to lean down to kiss and share that laughter. The kiss lingered for a few heartfelt moments with no more words or giggles. Merril pressed her forehead against Spencer’s, strengthening her resolve. She maneuvered herself back to her earlier position and lowered herself on him. 

He penetrated her slowly. Her hands were on his waist. He clenched his core while she focused on doing the opposite, accepting him with as little resistance as possible. Fuzz fizzled and pop around the edges of her vision as she opened her eyes after scrunching them closed. Just in time for her to see Spencer’s head loll backward and his mouth open into a silent cry of pleasure. He huffed, blinking away what might as well be surprise and awe and disbelief. 

“Oh my god,” he mouthed. “Fuck,” he continued, coming out in the barest of whispers. 

Meanwhile, Merril whimpered as she grew accustomed to having him deep inside of her. She adjusted herself within her jockstrap through her skirt. Spencer was fully pink now and she was sure she was too. She gasped, finding purchase on Spencer’s wrists, pinning them down on her bed. 

“How are you,” he gulped, “feeling? Good?” 

She nodded, not trusting herself to keep her volume low if she opened her mouth. She sought for an answer in Spencer’s face too.

“You feel so good. Fuck. You’re amazing,” Spencer said, just above a whisper. Merril moved her hips. She could feel him clench his fists as he turned a moan into a scoff. He bucked upward in response. Her fingers dug into his wrist. She keened against her teeth. Her inhale came in a hiss. She did it again. “Oh my god,” he exhaled. 

Her body quivered with every bounce. She rolled her hips around Spencer’s cock in directions she didn’t think of. She followed where the pleasure went. Spencer was writhing on the bed, doing his best to keep quiet as she did. Moans were struggling in her chest as the pleasure built and built around her hips. He laid down, taking her motions to stride, lower lip white while he bit down on it. His hands remained on her hips. He had tried to move them closer to her crotch but she barred them. He was content for now, gripping her thighs as she used them in a way that she had never before. This was going to hurt in the morning, she was sure, but that was the farthest nagging in her head. The pleasure of having Spencer inside of her, pushing into pleasure points that she didn’t think she had or could ever reach left her mind a soggy, unorganized mess. Every breath sizzled with ecstasy. Her skin was so sensitive to Spencer’s fingers when he ran them along her navel and up her sides. She even let him slip them underneath her bralette to finger her nipples. Her hands were too focused on keeping a barrier between her front and his front. She could only hold him off for too long and it felt too good to pass up. She was already depriving herself of relieving her biggest ache. This was a fine alternative. And when Spencer rose up to run his lips along her chest, she felt a moan shuddering up her throat that he caught with a finger against her lips. 

“Shh...Shh…” He kissed the bump on her throat. “I want to hear you. I want to hear you so badly, babe. And I want you to know,” he sighed when she drove herself down on him, “fuck. I want you to know how spectacular this is. But we have to keep quiet okay? Can you do that for me?” She nodded, wrapping her lips around his finger. “That’s a good, beautiful girl. My beautiful girl.” His fingers raked along the back of her head, grabbing the roots when she did another deep dive. His free hand held her hip, keeping her in place. She still had two hands between them. He thrusted into her. She whimpered. “Can you still be quiet?” And again. She choked on a moan. “You are amazing. You’re the most beautiful woman in the world. You feel fucking glorious around me. I hope I can make that abundantly clear.” With each sentence, a grinding thrust that she could feel in her heart, making it stutter and roll and twirl. Each time, she struggled to maintain control over her urge to scream with pure euphoria. 

She continued to buck and bounce around Spencer’s cock. She clenched her cheeks around him while he held her ass, fingernails leaving clear indentations on her body. He kissed her, desperate and eager. She kissed him with the same energy and exuberance until he broke it with a cracked moan. She felt him throb inside of her. He was shaking, holding her close. Her arms were still between them. She let herself rub against the underside of her arms. He moaned into her chest. 

Spencer finally eased his grasp on her and the grasp on his lungs. He dragged his hands through his dampened hair and breathed. His lips were still parted in reverence. He looked at her like she was a sky of shooting stars. He caught his breath then kissed her gently. She pushed herself upward. He slipped out. It wasn’t a pleasant sound but that could be forgiven and forgotten, considering the bliss that came before and after it. She smiled because he was smiling. She could almost disregard the strain in her skirt. A spot on the jockstrap was wet but not so much so. The orgasm was still a far away concept for her but the way Spencer kissed her made it worth the dull dissatisfaction. 

When he pulled away, they smiled at each other. He cupped her face again. Then, again, that goofy look on his face pursed into something else. He glanced down between the two of them. Merril grew hot, though not in the same way as earlier. 

“It can’t just be me,” Spencer said. “Please. I want you to feel as good as you made me feel. Let me—” 

“I don’t want you to look at me or touch me there. Not right now. I’m not ready,” she interjected. 

“This is ours. Not only mine. It’s yours too. This can’t be just for me. You know I won’t mind,” Spencer continued. 

Merril sighed. He held her face and caressed her cheeks with his thumb. “I won’t mind. I promise I won’t mind but I want you to have this too,” he murmured. 

After a brief thought and a nod, she said, “Okay.” She stood, turned around before he could see anything sticking up under the skirt and she lowered herself on his lap again. She stretched her fingers, forcing them to stop shaking. She found Spencer’s hands behind her and placed one inside her thigh, near her crotch but keeping a good distance away. The other, she put on her chest, right underneath the bralette. His breath was hot on the nape of her neck. He nosed the hair and blouse away. It now hung below her shoulders, crushed between Spencer’s chest and her back. He kissed the juncture between her neck and shoulder. 

“Don’t look,” she said. Pleaded, really. 

“I promise. Kiss me?” And she obliged, craning her neck and then putting her arm around Spencer’s shoulder to give him a more comfortable position. She slid her hand beneath her jockstrap and started stroking herself. Spencer ran his fingers along her thigh, squeezing and massaging her flesh. Her rolled a nipple under his thumb before his fingers trailed up her chest and along her neck. Then back down again. His broad hand was splayed over her stomach, just above the navel. His kiss was more insistent, tongue tangled with her own, catching each little whimper than escaped her. 

“Can I put my fingers inside of you? I want to feel you around me when you get there,” he whispered between kisses. “Please?” He asked when she kissed him instead of answering him. Pressure was building in her crotch, rising to the space below her navel. “Please, baby? If I can’t hear you, can I feel you? At least?” He begged. Almost moaned. Both his hands were on her thighs, still a good distance away from where she didn’t want him to be. He kneaded the flesh there, sending tremors across her body. She wanted more but she was afraid of what he was going to discover if she let herself get more. 

But she should be beyond fear now. She’d done something she didn’t think she’d be able to bring herself to until after all was said, paid, and done. Years later, in her head. Yet here she was. She shouldn’t deprive herself now. 

“Keep your eyes closed,” she said, breath away from his lips. He nodded. She poured lube onto his hands again and rubbed it warm. Her hand was on top of his when she led him down. She moved them both a little up on the bed. She propped her leg up on it too. It wasn’t a perfect angle but it was good enough to keep him from touching somewhere she didn’t want him to touch tonight. (In the future, perhaps.) He slipped two fingers in without being told again. He tried to push his fingers as far as he could go, thrusting them in and out when he found a good angle. 

Merril had to keep herself upright with one arm while she stroked herself. Spencer murmured his gratitude and his praise right into her shoulder. His other hand was pinned under Merril’s. He sought out the spots within her that would make her clench around him and he was starting to find them sooner. The pads of his fingers circled a particular area that had Merril muffling her moans with his lips. Her breathing grew ragged. 

“Right there, right there.” The words left her cracked and strained. Her chest was full of unused moans. Spencer thrusted his fingers faster. Before long, Merril unloaded against the jockstrap, ass cinched around two fingers. Spencer drank her pleasured noise. His hand left her hole and held her face against his, taking her all in as she shook and shuddered and shorted. She melted into it. All her bones were now marshmallows. Her thoughts were nothing more than static and monosyllabic. She held onto him, ignoring the sticky sensation in her crotch. They kissed until they had to catch their breaths. She moved off of him and rolled onto her front, resting her head on the backs of her wrists. 

Spencer’s sneakers tapped against her floor. “I can’t feel my legs. Literally.” 

Merril’s giggle turned into a laugh, which turned into a guffaw. Spencer did the same. Merril dug her fingers into her scalp as her shoulders shook with glee. She did it. And Spencer was still there. He was still looking at her the way he’d been since they started dating. Like nothing changed, even though much had changed. His laughter met hers in a kiss once more, like so many before, and Merril couldn’t be happier. 

“Should we still go out?” She asked, a giggle punctuating her question. 

“I mean,” Spencer shrugged, “if you want to. I have to get the feeling back in my legs first but I’m getting there.” 

She shoved him. He chuckled and kissed her forehead.

They laid there, no rush to go to their date. Their clothes rumpled. Their bodies messy. Their smiles blissful. They held hands and looked at each other with the kind of love that not many could find in their lifetime as they tried to fathom how lucky they were.

**Author's Note:**

> Songs I listened to on repeat while writing this:
> 
> Body Say  
> Wildfire  
> Both by Demi Lovato


End file.
